Pacifist's Sword
by Breeze of Summoners
Summary: Two "members" of feuding families come together during a battle, only to find they share the same idea: "This fight is stupid" They set off to see if they can find an end to the fight, or if they can only flee. Read and review, please! Chapter 03 Up
1. History

**History**

Note: This is not required reading; you can still continue on to the first chapter of the story without reading the History. It may help to shed light on a few subjects, and eliminate confusion, so it is your choice if you would like to read the history now, or try to figure it out by context.

It is beyond the time of prosperity and peace within one. That is easily said, though not easily explained. A simple way to put it is to say that the lesson of the Great War has been forgotten. The lust for power, the control one can have over another being, and the ominous, greater strength that may be watching this all above, have gone down in history along with a thousand rumors. These myths say that Brahne wasn't being controlled by Kuja, and Kuja didn't betray Garland, or that Garland didn't even exist in the first place. Terra flew from everyone's minds and books, and Brahne's lust for power was forgotten. Like most of history does in the end, all was forgotten.

Zidane and Garnet Tribal died not knowing of the "amnesia" that would sweep their great kingdom like a plague. They died with two children, one a daughter who would've been a summoner had she bothered to show interest, and the other a boisterous man who ruled Alexandria with a good hand. He had three sons, triplets, who had a three-man duel to see who would take the country. The Tribal son died two days after finding that his favored son won the battle, and thus happiness was with him. Unfortunately, disaster came upon Alexandria soon after this. The son of the triplet was a mischievous fellow who wanted nothing to do with ruling a kingdom. He was the only son, however, and the heir to the throne. To make matters worse for the lad, his father fell terribly ill when the son was seventeen-years-old. A year later, the triplet died, and the son fled Alexandria.

Chaos followed soon after. The other two triplets didn't return, and one could understand why. Suddenly the idea of having great power appealed to many of Alexandria, and plenty of bloodshed came to the city as the citizens fought for the position to rule their country.

In the end, the mysterious happened, and the weakest man, who didn't even want to rule the kingdom, got the title "King". No one really knows how it happened; it is one of those mysterious, strange things in history.

On the day of the weak man was formally given the title king, an assassination attempt greeted him. The assassin was killed instantly by a fire spell, a spell that came straight form the hands of the new King. Word of the King's Black Magic spread, and suddenly, all riots in Alexandra came to a halt. Relative peace came to the kingdom, though tension and nervousness was the price.

On the other side of the Mist Continent, Lindblum was undisturbed by Alexandria's problems. No one denied the position of Regent, and all was peaceful. When Alexandria's riots began, the current Regent offered to help Alexandria's temporary "rulers" with an army, but the help was not needed when two days later the Black Mage came into rule. Then, Lindblum settled into peace, though it was a suspicious peace. Black Mage had gone into history with enough rumors to earn it the title "Devil's Magic". It was rumored to have the power to destroy the world, and supposedly it possessed anyone who had it within him. It was a strange business, but a simple message came from the rumors: "Fear Black Magic".

The Mage ruler of Alexandria wanted nothing more than peace, and so he arranged a meeting with the Regent of Lindblum to renew the peace treaty. The nervous Regent agreed, despite the warnings of his staff. Neither ruler knew that another, jealous ruler would affect the relationship of their cities for many years.

Treno had long become a city consisting of pampered rich and desolate, starving poor. The lower class worked day and night on goods for the upper class, which gave them enough money and goods to just get by with life. The poor would try revolting a few times, only to be slaughtered by the more powerful, guarded rich. Thus, the money-deprived had accepted their fate, and Treno's upper class grew to be powerful and influential on politics. The three-person government of Treno, called the Triad, watched with interest as tension grew between Alexandria and Lindblum, and they came up with a plan.

Assassins ran rampant in Treno, which had so much violence it was a wonder it stayed together. The Triad decided to call upon one of these assassins to kill the Regent of Lindblum. They would set it up to look like Alexandria had prompted this attack, which would surely spark a war between the nations. Then, Treno would trade goods to the warring nations for high prices, and get more money for the city to continue prospering. The plan seemed perfect, especially for a city so used to violence.

It did go perfectly, except that Treno forgot about another city in the distance.

The assassin did his work, and he did it well. The Regent of Lindblum was killed two days before the Peace Convention, his body seemingly burned by Magic. Rumors were said at the right times, and soon Lindblum was convinced, despite Alexandria's protests, that the Mage ruler had assassinated their beloved leader.

War was unstoppable. Within days armies were assembled and prepared, insults tossed. Within a month the first bloodshed of war was spilled near Dali, which was burned to the ground by Lindblum troops. More violence came from there.

Treno watched with delight as their plan worked exactly as it was supposed to, and the Triad prepared to send diplomats to Alexandria and Lindblum to consider trade. Still they forgot the other great city in the Mist Continent.

Burmecia had been watching the tension and problems rising between Alexandria and Lindblum for quite some time. The King of Burmecia wanted nothing to do with the problems, despite Burmecia's strength when it came to wars and fighting. His advisors came, however, and reminded him that the _last_ time Burmecia had chosen to stay out of Alexandria's affairs, Alexandria had dragged them _into_ them by destroying their city and killing their citizens. Perhaps it would be better to be on Alexandria's side in this war, rather than sit on their heels and wait for the war to crush them. Seeing the logic in this, the King of Burmecia reluctantly told the army of Burmecia to prepare itself.

Alexandria needed Burmecia's force. Lindblum had something that Alexandria still had not used to full advantage in their city: Airships. The airship force of Lindblum's army was crushing Alexandria's army, which consisted of mainly melee, and Alexandria's powerful navy couldn't find any way to get to Lindblum's army. The Airship Sector of Alexandria was small, though more advanced than Lindblum's ships, and quick, but Alexandria didn't want to risk losing their precious, powerful ships. When nearly 3,500 Burmecians came to Alexandria to aid them, Alexandria couldn't have been more relieved.

Burmecians were trained purely for battle, and as technology became advanced, so did their techniques. Burmecia was at that time the only city that made good use of guns. While swords, lances, axes, and other weapons like those were still mainly in use, guns and the damage they could cause had been discovered as well. Most cities feared them, however, particularly since the earlier guns had a nasty aftereffect of sending the user ten feet backward from the force of the bullet being released. Only Burmecia had worked for years to find a way to get rid of this problem, and their 850 warriors that could use the guns were sent against the airships, mainly to go after their crew. Another 250 Burmecian warriors could man cannons, and the rest of the force still stuck to average soldier and Dragon Warrior techniques.

The tide greatly turned in the war. When Lindblum, using airships, went to rush a small fortification near the Evil Forest, they were stunned when a quarter of the airships raiding the place were shot down by cannons, another quarter's crew killed, and rest taken over when high-jumping, daring Dragon Warriors leapt straight onto the airships and captured them. Treno was also stunned, when Alexandria refused their diplomat, saying they already got everything they needed from Burmecia. Burmecia also made good use of woman labor, and while the men (and some women, for their fighting skills were found to be just as excellent as man's) went off to war, the women took over the jobs, keeping industry together. Treno could only trade with Lindblum, but that would make them look like an enemy to Alexandria and could risk a battle.

The Triad took the risk, and Treno entered the war on Lindblum's side. Now all four great cities of the Mist Continent were in a fierce war. It raged for five years, with Lindblum and Treno's forces slowly being forced back. Mages were suddenly in great demand, as they could deal as much damage as the guns, when they could actually hit one of the quick-moving Burmecian gunners. White mages and Black mages found that they were no longer feared or bullied, but wanted and given great amounts of gold and goods if they would fight. In the end, the main people fighting were gunners, cannons, and mages. The melee warriors simply found that their swords and axes could not do much against a gun or spell. Regardless, many of them went into battle, only to be killed in the thousands.

Treno took the heaviest damage, for they were not built for fighting. They sent their poor to war, only to have industry fail, as the upper class didn't know how to work. The rich were sent to war, only to have them desert or die, since they knew nothing on fighting. Then, when the end of the war seemed near, a sudden revolt in Treno caused the war they had caused to no longer be their problem. The Triad had been murdered, and the lower class was suddenly gaining great power. Treno retreated from the war in shame, wrecked from the inside and out from its own actions.

Burmecia prospered from the war, taking the least casualties. Still, near the end even they tired of it; some Burmecians began to desert from the armies, mostly the melee soldiers who were taking terrible casualties. The King of Burmecia met with the Mage King, suggesting they offer a peace treaty to Lindblum. It would bring them on better terms if they did not simply slaughter the city and take it by force.

Alexandria had taken horrific deaths and injuries in the beginning, but once Burmecia joined their side, they slowly had less injured. At the end of the war, they were doing excellently, but the people were sick of the war, and thus the Mage King agreed to see Lindblum for a peace treaty.

Lindblum received all its casualties at the end of the war, and its people were also sick of fighting. The new Regent, though his wife was angry at the death of her father, agreed with a peace treaty. Soon, the two met, without problems, at a new Peace Convention at the remains of Dali. The terms of peace were simple. Lindblum and Alexandria would not step upon each other's territories with any weapons. Dali, or the remains of the once prospering community, was the boundary of their territories. Trade would begin between the cities, with no guards with any of the traders. Ultimately, it was a return to conditions before the war, and both kingdoms were happy to accept.

Peace came to the Mist Continent once more, or at least on a grand scale...

Many families in the war had become enemies, agitated by actions in the battling, and many didn't get on good terms again. Two families, one from Alexandria and one from Lindblum, had this problem.

The Chutzpah family of Alexandria was known for its arrogance and great boasting. They claimed that they had descended from the great generals Beatrix and Steiner, but no one in Alexandria believed them, especially since they had no proof to give. They were a strong, wealthy family, and the minute war came, their boys were quick to sign up and fight, the girls following behind. They were melee fighters, and thus were suffer great casualties, though they were one of the few lucky families that didn't perish entirely in the war.

The Lycurgus family of Lindblum was well liked by the city that didn't know them, and despised by those that did know them. They were hard working middle class, but known for their greed and grand plans of becoming the most important family in Lindblum. No one liked them for their high-reaching goal, especially since it involved deception and death. When the war came, they immediately rushed out, thinking it would gain them fame and bring them closer to their goal. They were also melee soldiers, and their family disappeared in the war.

The two families met on the battlefield near the very end of the war. They were the only two fighting there, and made a promise to keep it a fair fight with only swords, and no sneaky assassinations or disasters. The Chutzpah family had disaster strike only moments before the battle, when they found their general dead with a sword in his neck. They immediately blamed the Lycurgus, who replied that they had done nothing. The Chutzpah didn't believe them, and rushed forward before they were supposed to, slaughtering the Lycurgus and taking prisoner those they didn't kill. Many of those were young men and women who quickly gained a deep hatred for the Chutzpah that would never leave for generations.

Once the war ended, the Chutzpah returned to Alexandria in victory, though they hid from the rest of the city so that no one knew they had taken prisoners home, which was something the peace treaty did not allow. Soon they were able to have their prisoners blend into their family as mere servants, and they returned to Alexandria social life, for good or for ill.

Fifty years have passed since the war. The Mage king has passed away, and his daughter, also a Black Mage, has taken over Alexandria with a strong yet kind hand. Lindblum also has a new ruler, one who is willing to keep the peace and not try to "avenge Lindblum". Those who were once at the bottom now rule Treno, and there is still great strife and battling as the rich try to regain their place. Burmecia is peaceful, with many researchers trying to find ways to improve weapons and others pieces of technology no one else wants to touch. They are also helping to bring Cleyra back to its full glory, and a small town exists near the hole, which was once the great tree of Cleyra, that is slowly being filled with sand.

The families of Chutzpah and the relatives of the Lycurgus, however, are not on good terms...


	2. Chapter 01

**Chapter One  
Dragged to Conflict**

_Damned señor..._ Ida thought with pure agitation. _Making me do this damned work when I could be doing something more useful..._

Sighing, Ida tossed the packs of Ghasyl Greens with as much force as her small body could muster, and watched with strange satisfaction as the grass went soaring into the wall, where the strings binding it together split. Greens spilled everywhere in the stables, and the chocobos began to chirp with delight, trying to charge through their stalls to get to the tempting food. Smiling with satisfaction, Ida rubbed her stained hands on her blouse, not caring if she got scolded for making a mess that would take hours to clean. It was about time _someone_ did work around here, besides her. She thought she was supposed to be a White Mage, an adopted daughter to señor, and a valuable asset to the family's army. Instead, she was still doing work like she was a servant. It was aggravating that no one in the family could remember what she was.

_Ah well. They'll remember when I cast Confuse on them and send them running into walls when they think it's a door._

The thought caused a cruel chuckle to come from Ida's mouth. It was a rare thing, her chuckling over some nasty thought that involved inflicting pain on someone, but frustration often brought the oddest of things to someone. At that moment, it brought mental images of seeing her idiotic "family" running into walls from confusion. She would probably try such a thing as well, if she didn't know what would happen in her sleep if she forgot to cast her average Protect spell. Being the adopted daughter of a family that hated hers was definitely dangerous business, but she had grown used to danger. It followed her around like a big puppy ever since she could remember. It was always there, seeming innocent and cute, but you never knew when it may bare its teeth and strike. If you were with it enough, however, you learned its moods. Ida had done the same with danger, and she knew exactly when it was going to strike.

The time had come, actually. As she walked out of the stables, which had sounds coming from it that sounded like chocobos succeeding in breaking out their stalls, a loud, angry shout came from the mansion that Ida called her "hellish home". Ida recognized the shout instantly, and it made her sigh with great agitation, and begin to twirl a piece of her red-brown, shoulder-length hair around her fingers out of nervousness. Ida quickened her pace away from the stables, which had such a disaster happening within that even a nearly deaf person could probably hear it, and toward the garden. She wanted to make sure it didn't look like she had caused the mess in the stables, though señor would certainly guess it. He was, unfortunately, incredibly smart, and he also knew Ida quite well. He knew she would cause a mess within his life at any chance she got. It was a wonder that he hadn't kicked her out of the house yet.

_No, I have to be valuable. For what, practicing his threats on?_

The shout came again, and this time it was much closer. Ida could easily identify it as señor, and he sounded like he was in the living room, which had a door that led directly into the garden. Ida had arrived upon the garden, and was walking along the sandstone pavement, admiring the pink-flowered cherry trees and the birds that were singing within them. She had the best innocent face she could muster on, which certainly wasn't much. Hands behind her back, she walked with lady-like grace, an odd thing to see when she wore leather pants with a white blouse that was stained with Ghasyl Greens. Ida knew she was as obvious as a white cat in the dark, and that her attempt at innocence would only make her seem more guilty to señor, but it didn't hurt to try and act her way out of it...

"Ida! What's the- _Ida!_ Dammit, can you do anything right these days?"

Ida grinned at the agitated voice of señor, who had, judging by the shrill calls of chocobos who found an intruder upon their food, stumbled upon the stables first. He was probably being chased by a bunch of hungry chocobos. Whistling a cheery tune Ida had made up called "Señor Got Ran Over by a Chocobo", Ida turned away from the pretty garden and skipped toward the great wooden doors that led into the family room. She took a large, wooden key out of her pocket and unlocked the door, before slipping into the family room and closing the door. She tossed the key onto the mahogany desk that rested near the door, then began to walk through the family room, leaving ugly green stains on the white carpet. She passed quickly through the family room and into the smaller but no less lovely kitchen.

"Hey, Moa!" Ida called to the older woman trying to get dough to roll out into a circle, something it did not seem willing to do. "What are you doing? Making a new type of bread?"

The old woman sighed, turning her attention away from the stubborn dough and over to the eighteen-year-old child watching her with a grin. Her black eyes blinked slowly before she replied in an old, cracked voice, "Shouldn't you be working?"

Ida grinned, brown eyes glittering innocently. "What? I'm finished..."

The old woman groaned, obviously not pleased with hearing such a thing. She motioned to a wooden stool near the kitchen's massive, iron stove. "Sit down and let me work."

Ida skipped like a young child over to the stool and sat down, smiling at the roaring fire within the stove. She looked around the room, as always admiring its grey stone walls, sandstone floor, and gorgeous wooden counters that had intricate designs of dragons and flowers (Ida wasn't sure why the two were put together, and she didn't dare ask). It was a small, peaceful room, and the only room where stains were expected and not looked down upon.

_"IDA!"_

The peace of the kitchen was shattered by the extremely angry roar coming from the family room. The entire house seemed to be shaking as the angry steps of a large man reverberated throughout the building. The old woman glanced toward Ida and jerked her head toward the family room, an obvious command of "Get out!" Groaning, Ida jumped off the stool and walked into the family room, calling upon her White Magic in the process. Just as she walked into the family room, she was surrounded by a sparkling, goo-like shield that made her gain a yellowish tinge. Seconds later, a hand that made an attempt to slap her made contact with the shield, and slid along it as if it were covered in grease. Ida couldn't help but grin at the slowly reddening face of the man who found that he _couldn't_ punish her after all.

Señor was a large man, easily 230lbs (around 104kg), and almost 6 feet 5 inches (about two meters) tall. He had large, muscular arms and legs, though the rest of his body seemed lacking in strength. He had the power one needed to wield a massive axe, and a temper that would cause anyone seeing him holding such an axe to run the other way. His blue eyes stared down at Ida with sheer rage, and yellow feathers were stuck in his black hair, which was up in a long ponytail that almost reached the floor. Brushing feathers off his leather pants and armor, which Ida had learned seemed to attract chocobo feathers like a magnet, he pointed an accusing finger at Ida, who merely stared up at him - Ida was only four feet two inches (about a meter and a quarter) tall - while doing her best to hide a smirk.

"I want an explanation for _this-"_ señor fumed, pointing to the chocobo feathers in his hair. "_This-_" Now he motioned to the grass stains on the once beautiful carpet. "And _that."_ He motioned in the direction of the stable, which sounded like it was still a disaster zone, even from inside a thick-walled room.

"That is because chocobos shed way too much during spring, that is because Greens are quite messy and you were thick enough to choose a _white_ carpet, and that is because chocobos really like their food," Ida replied, refraining from laughing at señor's reddening face.

"Dammit Ida! Do you have any realization of how lucky you are?" señor began, but Ida cut him off.

"Don't try that again, please. I've heard it too many times. You can't be here just to scream at me for being a 'bad, unappreciative child'. What do you want?" Ida asked calmly, somehow managing to keep her voice very calm.

For a few moments señor's lips moved silently, as everything he wanted to say refused to come out in actual noise. Ida yawned purposely, not because she was tired or bored but just to annoy señor as best she could. Annoying señor was an awesome form of entertainment for Ida, who found that she couldn't find anything particularly fun to do those days. Aggravating señor was the best way to do it, and what better way than to yawn right in his face? It worked, but señor refrained from trying to hit Ida, for the protective shield was still shimmering with full strength. Trying to punish the child would result in another hand sliding along goo like a misplaced foot upon ice. It wasn't worth the humiliation and Ida's grin. Truthfully, _nothing_ was worth it.

"The Lycurgus have challenged my men to a duel," señor explained. "I ne- Eh, you are required to come and assist us."

_Still can't admit you need me, eh? Arrogant moron. Just _have_ to keep up your reputation,_ Ida thought bitterly, but hid the smoldering thoughts under a calm visage.

"You can't just refuse? Or ask another White Mage?" Ida asked, though this time her words were actually truthful.

"Refuse? And lose face? You must be joking. And you're the be- Um, no one else is available right now, so you must come along," señor replied.

_Right. And I'm a chocobo who writes novels about Alexandrian history._

"Fine, fine. Let me go get ready. I'll be out in the front within ten minutes," Ida groaned reluctantly. Then, without waiting for another word, she turned away from señor and strode toward the large wooden staircase on the far east wall of the family room.

"Ah! Enu, no, that won't work. You need to concentrate more, _feel_ the power within your fingertips, feel it pass through your very veins."

"But I did, Sir Conleth! I did!" Enu wailed, jumping up and down with frustration. He showed all signs of being a frustrated six-year-old.

Conleth sighed, shaking his head. He was showing all sings of being a frustrated six_teen_-year-old. "No, you mustn't of. If you did, more than a little drop of water would've resulted! See, watch me, sense the power..."

With those words, Conleth closed his yellow eyes, something all Black Mages seemed to have. He held his gloved hands out before him, and began to silently chant within his mind. He felt magic rush through his veins, and gather at his fingers. He switched his chant from a simple call for magic to an incantation for water. His fingers felt simply damp at first, but then the power escalated to a feeling of his fingers drowning in water. To most, it would be an uncomfortable feeling, but to Conleth it was wonderful. Slowly he brought his hands out to his sides, his arms perfectly straight. He felt the drowning sensation split to evenly cover both of his hands, and it only continued, traveling up to his wrists. At that point, he switched his chants once more, and called upon the magic to release itself from its binds, and rise forward.

That it did. The drowning sensation left, and his gloves and edge of his sleeves felt distinctly wet, as the sensation of water within him left to be replaced by the feeling of water on the outside. He heard Enu gasp, and guessed that the child had just witnessed seeing water rise from someone's hands the way a zombie rose from a grave. For those that weren't used to it, it could be an odd thing to see, and for an inexperienced mage, an odd thing to feel. Conleth, however, wasn't inexperienced, and it was a calm and peaceful sensation.

Conleth's thoughts threatened to stray away from the task, and quickly he switched the chant to sending the water upward. The feeling of being soaked left immediately, and he heard the rush of water as it surged upward, splashed into the ceiling, and fell down to the ground, soaking him. Opening his eyes, Conleth looked up to see a small hole in the ceiling where the force of the spell had hit and deformed the ceiling. Conleth looked down to see Enu gaping at the ceiling.

"Wow," the child mouthed, and Conleth smiled.

"See? That is what you must do. Call the magic like you're saying a prayer to it, and it will come to you naturally," Conleth explained.

"Sir Conleth? Did the Old Black Mages have to do such things?" Enu chirped when Conleth turned to leave.

Conleth stopped moving, surprised by the question. It had been the same question that had caused his thoughts to nearly stray and lose the spell of Water. There were many books around about the Old Black Mages, with their pointy hats and glowing oval eyes, and how they were manufactured like they were toys, toys designed to murder. Supposedly they were purely magic, and had "died" long ago. When they died, however, supposedly humans, Burmecians, and other species being born with Black Magic abilities had become more and more common. It was almost as if their "deaths" had released their magic.

The books never told of _how_ they used their magic, though, and if they had to almost pray to it. Conleth assumed not, since they were magic, and it wouldn't make sense if they had to pray to themselves. Still, he wasn't sure, and he didn't want to give false information to an innocent child. Therefore, he shrugged lightly.

"I don't know. Maybe someday someone will find out," Conleth answered. "Practice your magic. I will be right back."

"Okay!" Enu chirped, suddenly incredibly eager and cheery. It made Conleth smile as he left the room.

The minute Conleth had left the room and was in the hallway, he sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. He then shivered and pulled his cloak, which was blue to signify Conleth's specialty to be of the Water, closer around his frail frame. Mages never grew very tall or strong, and Conleth followed this, being only four feet (about a meter) tall and 102lbs (about 46kg). He looked to be nothing more than skin and bones, and hid this skinny frame with flowing clothing. Given clothes that he felt he didn't deserve the luxury of, Conleth regardless wore the white linen pants and shirt, with a light chain link vest over the shirt, black leather boots and pants, and a gorgeous blue, silk cloak over the outfit. His black hair was dressed up in a braid held together by blue silk pieces of cloth. This braid reached halfway down his back, as was almost standard among mages.

"Hello Conleth."

"Hmm?" Conleth looked to see who had spoken, but it was too late; the woman was already walking down the hallway.

That was one part of being one of the youngest, most handsome, most powerful mages that Conleth did not enjoy: the attention. Everyone, from nine-year-olds to thirty-three-year-olds, was hoping to impress him, get his attention, maybe even form more than just a friendship with him. Conleth, however, had no interest in any of the women who came toward him, no matter how lovely or sweet they may be. He had better things to worry about than a girlfriend. He had spells to learn, armor to purchase, and a small, unimportant war to fight (not that he wished to fight the war, but he was paid to fight it, and thus he felt he might as well). At that moment, however, he wanted nothing more than to go get a bite to eat, then maybe head home and take a nap.

"Sir Conleth! There you are!"

_Oh no. Mr. You're-Going-Into-Battle, right at lunchtime._

"Yes, General?" Conleth called, coming to a stop as General Lycurgus came along, looking quite exhausted.

General Lycurgus was tall and heavy compared to Conleth, being five feet (about a meter and a half) tall and 150lbs (68kg), but compared to any other general he was small and frail. Regardless, the tan-skinned General was an expert with airships, and could get them into and out of the strangest situations. At that moment, he did not hold his normal confidence. Rather, there were black circles under his blue eyes, and his ochre hair was frizzy. He looked like he hadn't gotten sleep in two weeks, and whenever the General looked like such, there was trouble.

"The Chutzpah's forces are advancing!" General Lycurgus breathed out in a panic.

Conleth could only stare with shock, thousands of thoughts running through his head. Advancing? They had made a treaty to give each other a week to allow their armies to recover! Why were they advancing? It seemed like the Chutzpah had, once again, broke the rules in an attempt to get ahead in the stupid feud. It caused Conleth to sigh heavily. Whatever they were doing, they were succeeding in making Conleth lose his lunch and afternoon nap once again.

"Where do you need me?" Conleth asked. There was no arguing, no whining, simply a calm following of orders.

"I want you to kidnap someone," the General replied.

_That_ woke up Conleth up, if he hadn't already been alert. Mages normally weren't told to kidnap people, particularly sixteen-year-old mages with powers that would be far more useful in the front of the battle.

_"Whoa!_ Okay, back up! You want _me_ to kidnap someone? _Me?"_ Conleth gasped, stunned by the news.

"Yes... Don't worry, they shouldn't be armed. You're to kidnap a White Mage," Lycurgus replied, trying to calm the quickly panicking Conleth. "You can use your Death attack to knock her out easily enough, and then bring her to our side. Surely your spells can help you get there safely?"

Conleth wasn't sure about that question. His magic was powerful, certainly, but that didn't mean he could kidnap a person without risking danger or being seen. There was still the chance he'd be seen and killed, or captured. Disaster still loomed overhead. Unfortunately, Conleth could tell there was no way he could refuse. If he did, Lycurgus would send someone a lot less experienced and up to the job, and they would probably get killed. Conleth would rather risk his own life than have someone else get crippled just because they didn't know what to do.

"All right... I'll do it... Where should I meet you?" Conleth said reluctantly and slowly, rubbing his left arm out of habit. The wound that had once been there had long healed, but he still rubbed it when nervous.

"Outside Lindblum. Please hurry," the General said, then rushed away, heading toward the room where Enu was practicing.

Conleth didn't bother watching him leave. He simply began a hurried run toward the main exit of the Black Mage Training Quarters.

**Oh gosh. I'm alive. Yes, I'm alive, and writing _FanFiction_ at that O.O Anyway, I know the first chapter is really confusing setting-wise, as you're probably thinking "Who ARE these people? Where are they? What the -censored- is going on here anyway?" Don't worry... Where they are isn't important, so I see no reason to explain it. The chapter seems rather description-deprived to me, but I only described who was important... Which wasn't much. I did what I had to do here... Introduced you to our "heroes", and the problem. -bows- Adios until next time.**

**This story is copyright to me. Final Fantasy IX, and all content related to it, is copyright to Square-Whatever-Their-Name-Currently-Is. Thank you.**


	3. Chapter 02

**Chapter Two**

**The Strange Happens**

"Okay? You sure you're set?"

Ida refrained a sigh as she looked over at the young soldier. A professional look was etched upon her face, and would probably stay there until the battle ended, whenever it did. She knew she couldn't rely on Lindblum or Alexandrian officials stopping it early; the battle was out of their territory, at the edge of the mountains that were claimed by no kingdom. Nothing but a massive pack of annoyed Yetis could stop them, and it had to be a huge group, at least a thousand individuals, to end it. There was no chance that would happen, and Ida was stuck in a smelly tent in the bitter cold.

"Yes, I am fine. Go back to your regiment," Ida said calmly, waving the young boy away.

"Yes, miss," the soldier replied nervously. He saluted quickly, then dashed out of the tent, more to try and warm himself up than anything else.

The minute the soldier had left, and Ida was left in solitude, she let out an aggravated, bored sigh. Once again she was in a small, useless tent that would not be able to hold all the patients she would surely get. She would use up all her strength trying to heal them and probably pass out halfway through the battle. Many young lives would be lost, and she would be punished for having passed out, even though it wasn't _her_ fault so many injured came that she brought herself to exhaustion. It would be the same mess once again, the same idiotic battle between two dissatisfied families.

More aggravating than that was the fact that Alexandria and Lindblum both simply ignored the fact that the two families were constantly trying to slaughter each other. Ida knew that they were maintaining a "it's none of our business" air, hoping that the families would settle it themselves eventually. Both kingdoms had to know the only way it would be solved was when one family or the other had died, but regardless they kept out of the way. After all, why would they possibly want to disrupt the peace in their kingdom for a "petty family feud"?

_Ignorant fools. Too concerned with keeping peace as a whole that they'll allow hundreds to die for a little more peace._

If only "hundreds" wasn't an exaggeration. Over the years, both the Chazpuh and Lycurgus had used their wealth to gather money to raise massive armies consisting of mercenaries, sympathizing families, and young members of their own family. Army numbers had swelled to be more than 300 people fighting on either side. Then the Chazpuh had gotten the swell idea to add monsters to their side, and Lycurgus had followed suit. Now joining the ranks of more than 300 men were a hundred or more Axe Beaks, Ghosts, Carve Spiders, Hedgehog Pies, and any other Mist Continent monster that could be remotely tamed were sent to fight each other. While many died, some would be brought to Ida, who found that most of her energy was spent trying to heal a monster. In the end, she would pass out only more quickly if a monster managed to make it back to her, and many non-monster lives would be lost for one monster to live.

She hated it greatly, but at that moment, had no choice but to deal with it. She got treated much better than she had when she was still a servant. No longer was she given scraps from the table, and no longer was being beaten part of her punishment. She got nice food, decent treatment, and had spells to protect herself from any abuse. Ida knew she probably shouldn't complain as much as she did, but she simply couldn't stand the fighting. It was useless, and so many died for the "cause"!

Yet there she was, sitting on the still-frozen ground at the foot of a massive mountain range that separated Burmecia from the rest of the world. A shabby tent, put up in a hurry, prevented her from seeing anything around her. All she saw was the dreary, aging tent, which was being tossed about by the strong wind. She had medical supplies if her magic didn't need to be wasted, and a small, flute-like wand within her hand, a gorgeous white flower growing out of either end of the white wood. She wore a white cloak with grey stripes streaked along the hood and sleeves over thick wool pants and a heavy wool shirt. The cloak's hood was up in an attempt to keep her head from becoming too cold, and to keep her hair from getting in the way of her work, work that she knew she would have plenty of. For now, all she had to do was survive the boredom and tension that came with sitting on frozen ground in haunting silence.

Off in the distance, Ida heard the distant sound of a Firaga Spell soaring from its owner's safe hands. Seconds later, she heard the explosion caused from that spell finding its target. A soft groan managed to escape her lips; it had begun.

Conleth stayed as still as a petrified tree, his gaze sweeping the rocky plain that had quickly become a battlefield. Desperately he tried to stare beyond the fighting mass, but his attention always went back to the battle. So many people wasting their lives! Hundreds of people were rushing forward, joined by fierce monsters, to die for some idiotic reason. Did they even _know_ what they were fighting for? Did they even care to know? Conleth was sure the answer was "no" to both of those questions. No one could tell him what the reason for the conflict was, and they always asked why he bothered wanting to know. Conleth was certain he was the only person out there who thought that fighting without knowing what you were battling about was foolish.

Regardless, he was out in the battlefield, scanning it for the person he had instructions to kidnap. His staff, a beech staff that ended like a fern's frond, was held in his right hand, hidden partially by his blue cloak. A spell was already set into it, ready for use just in case he was discovered. He knew that if he didn't get it ready beforehand, he may not have the heart to prepare it when he needed it.

A distinct scream filled the air. Conleth immediately looked in the direction of the screech, only to find it belonged to an Axe Beak. It was limping badly, apparently having been attacked by two Lizard men, who were now pursuing the injured creature. Conleth watched as two other Axe Beaks came to help their companion, and the two Lizard Men were distracted. Conleth observed as the Axe Beak began to limp away from the battlefield, toward the north. Immediately Conleth rose and began a quick dash to the north, staying within the rocky, steep ground closest to the mountain's slopes.

The distinct roar of flames caused Conleth to throw himself into the rocky ground, covering his head. He felt the burning heat as a Fira spell soared above him, crashing into a nearby rock and making it explode. Conleth half-crawled, half-ran forward in an attempt to avoid the rocks, only to be hit in the side and knocked into another rock. Groaning with pain, Conleth began to stagger to his feet, only to hear a shrill laugh.

_Dammit. A nymph._

Conleth immediately looked up, only to find a small humanoid staring back at him. It had wild blue hair, blue-tinged skin, and blue, scale-like fur covering most of its body. Its legs ended, not in feet, but in root-like structures. Laughing, it spread out its bare arms, staring at Conleth with an innocent yet cold glare. Gritting his teeth, Conleth rushed forward, stumbling over rocks, and, gripping it tightly, sent his staff outward in a wide curve. The nymph merely soared away from the attack, only to find Conleth suddenly changed his tactic and send his staff in a jab right into the nymph's stomach. He then brought the staff downward, sending the nymph, which found itself temporarily stuck on the staff, crashing into the hard, uneven rocks below it.

Not bothering to see if it was unconscious or even alive, Conleth began to run toward the north again, leaving the nymph on the rocks. His side hurt with every breath, and he knew he probably had a nasty bruise, and maybe even a few bruised or broken ribs. It didn't stop the mage from racing across the rocky ground, running past the running troops. Very few noticed his passing, and any who did found themselves too preoccupied with the battle to be concerned with a mage running through.

A hiss-like roar caused Conleth to quicken his pace, though he didn't look back. Conleth recognized the call of a Serpion, and he had no desire to risk being poisoned in the middle of a mission. Thus, he only ran fast, causing him to pant. Behind him, he heard the steady steps of the quadruped Serpion chasing him like a dog fresh on a fox. The footsteps became closer and closer, and Conleth gripped his staff, realizing that he may be forced to use his spell and risk getting pricked by the poisonous creature in the process.

A crow-like croak of a call, and the flapping of wings as something small yet fierce soared over him, brought Conleth some relief. The worry the Serpion caused dissipated when he heard the Serpion hiss with disgust as the Trick Sparrow began to agitate it. That battle would certainly end in the death of the Trick Sparrow, but hopefully it would distract the Serpion long enough for Conleth to get forward. Taking a deep breath, Conleth ran as quickly as he possibly could, pushing his frail body to its limits.

_Already a monster injured! What is _wrong_ with these people?_

Ida could barely believe that an Axe Beak had already limped its way to her tent. Normally monsters didn't get themselves injured until later, because _normally_ they were released as a last result, in an attempt to win the battle. Apparently this had not been the case this time, since a monster was the first casualty. What was wrong with these people? Didn't they understand that monsters couldn't go up against so many humans without getting seriously hurt? It was an incredible waste of life and power!

Ida had already come up with a way to help the Axe Beak without risking her powers, however. It seemed the creature had gotten hit with hatchets, and its leg wasn't in much danger of anything except bleeding out. Thus, Ida had gotten out her anesthetics and bandages, and was bandaging up the agitated monster's leg. She didn't bother with potions, knowing most monsters either didn't respond at all to them, or had a severe allergic reaction resulting in death. Old-fashioned treatment was best.

"There we go! See, all better," Ida cooed out of habit to the Axe Beak.

The Axe Beak glanced over at Ida with a look that obviously said "I'm not a baby!" Ida couldn't help but smile as she patted the monster on the snout. Not appreciating the attention, the Axe Beak limped away, and settled down near a rock, snorting softly. It kept the smile on Ida's face, as she realized that it hadn't been so hard to treat this first patient. Maybe, if she was lucky, it would stay that easy.

Sighing contently, Ida leaned back against the tent wall, careful not to lean completely into it and cause it to collapse. The Axe Beak's breathing became steadier, and soon it began to snore softly. The battle still raged outside, but still no one came to the tent. It was unusual. Normally Ida would be full of patients. Once the first patient came, they would come in hordes, giving Ida no rest. Yet the Axe Beak's coming had not been followed by a massive amount of injured. There was still no one.

_Either we're doing an awesome job winning, or something terribly wrong is going on,_ Ida thought bitterly, and just then a distinct shout outside shattered her thoughts.

The minute the grey tent came into Conleth's site, the mage allowed himself a rest. Panting heavily, he touched his side lightly to test it, only to nearly double over from pain. It was more than a bruise, Conleth was sure, but he could do nothing about it. He could tell that he was within enemy territory. He heard someone speaking soothingly within the tent, and heard the snort of an Axe Beak. His first assumption was that this was the healer's tent, and that the White Mage was right within the tent. Assuming he was right, Conleth rested in order to prepare himself for raiding the tent.

Seven minutes of him panting with exhaustion, before a shout of surprise and panic behind him made him turn around. He was stunned to see a young man, no older than thirteen, gawking at him with shock. The boy was clutching his left arm with his right hand, which was covered in blood. The young man had gotten injured, and apparently been heading to the healer, only to find an unknown man nearby.

"Not a word," Conleth whispered in the best threatening voice he could manage, aiming his staff at the boy. "Don't say a word."

The boy looked too terrified to do anything. Seconds later, he shouted again with fear and ran back toward the battlefield. Conleth didn't need to even think about what he could possibly be doing. There was only one logical thing the boy could do at that moment, and that was go report the sighting of an unknown person near the healer's tent.

Now Conleth _had_ to move. Taking a deep breath, he scurried over one of the rocks and dashed toward the tent.

_"Don't move!"_

Conleth and Ida both were silent for a while as they came to the realization that they had said the same thing. They then proceeded to stare at each other, only to find they were doing the same thing as well. Both of them had risen to their feet, and were aiming their staves at each other. The Axe Beak was awake and glaring at Conleth with a threatening gaze, but neither of them noticed the monster. They were too busy being shocked over each other's appearance.

"Who are you?" Ida spat. "Answer!"

"Q-Quiet!" Conleth shouted back. "Don't make a move--"

"Answer my question, moron, or I'll Holy you until you talk," Ida threatened.

Conleth didn't doubt her words, particularly when a white bulb gathered at the tip of her wand. Regardless, he knew he couldn't be intimidated. Taking a deep breath, he commanded the spell on his staff to release.

Suddenly the world became dark and bleak for Ida. She tried to back up, only to find she couldn't move. The ground before her began to bubble like water, and slowly a hideous figure rose from the ground. The cloaked skeleton held up a mirror, and Ida stared with shock at her reflection within the dirty mirror. Then the mirror shattered before her eyes, and all feeling left Ida's body.

Conleth merely watched as Ida's eyes suddenly glaze, though he did rush forward and catch her fall out of habit. The Axe Beak snarled, rising weakly to its feet. Conleth looked with surprise toward the angered monster, then lifted Ida over his shoulder without a second thought. He couldn't waste time worrying about some injured monster. Surely the boy had gotten reinforcements, and they had to be heading toward him at that moment.

Such thoughts were only confirmed when someone outside shouted, "Over here!"

_Can't go out that way! Only one way now..._

With that panicked thought, Conleth rushed forward and, only lightly preparing a spell, sent his staff into the fabric opposite the opening of the tent. The fire that had begun to gather slightly on the end of the staff was enough to send the fabric ablaze, and quickly the flammable fabric was ablaze. Startled cries came from outside the tent, as smoke billowed from the flaming tent. The Axe Beak panicked, instincts telling it to fear the flames, and it limped toward the opening of the tent. Conleth took advantage the panic and half-leapt, half-stepped through the new opening. He then raced away from the tent as fast as he could, not looking back once.

****

As our two wondrous, not-so-love-struck heroes met… This chapter comes to an end. Many, _many_ apologies to any screw-ups with spells, monsters, etc… It's been many months, possibly even a year, since I've played Final Fantasy IX, and I'm doing all the descriptions and such purely from pictures I've found online, and my own terrible memory. Description was a little better here, but again, nothing is very important! Hopefully the chapters will have something important eventually… O.o

This story is copyright to me. Final Fantasy IX and all of its components are copyright to Square-Whatever-The-Heck-They-Call-Themselves. Thank you.


	4. Chapter 03

**Chapter Three  
Think the Same**

A cold wind brushed through the mountains as it mourned some loss, kicking up some of the powdery snow that rested on the stone ground. Stars dotted the blue night sky, joined by two moons, blue and red, that hung stationary and spooky in the darkness. A wolf let out a distinct, lonely howl that was soon joined by others of its kind, and ended by a Yeti roaring its annoyance at its sleep being disturbed. An owl dared to let out a hoot, and the Yeti snarled again, and soon everything was still and silent again.

Conleth shivered softly in the cold, his eyes staring at the darkness dead ahead of him. He wrapped his blue cloak more tightly around his frail body, wincing softly as he touched his bruised ribs a little too harshly. A small fire flickered on the stones and sticks he had managed to find, though the flames were always threatening to extinguish and leave him with no source of warmth. He had his Black Magic, but that seemed to be running dry as the night went on -- it had to be exhaustion causing such -- and he just wished the fire would cooperate and stay. The fire scared off the more primitive animals, and warned the smarter ones that he had some strength still within him despite the exhausting day.

It had been a rough day, from the battle to the aftermath of his escape. He had to have run for miles, heading toward Burmecia, though he could not say why. He should've headed back toward the Lycurgus, but instead his mind had decided to take the opportunity to head away from the miserable battle and the stupidity it brought with it. He had taken his "captive", and fled like a rat chased by a fierce cat, and technically he had been such. He had been a rat who had stolen the cat's food. He had taken the White Mage, the very source of the Chutzpah's survival, and that had certainly gotten them angry enough to hound him until he scrambled over a group of rocks, and plummeted off a cliff. There was no way the Chutzpah would bother following a mage who had seemed to commit suicide.

By some miracle Conleth had thought to use a Slow spell to turn the terrifying plummet to his death into a pleasant descent downward. For a few moments he had gasped, staring with horror at the cliff he had leapt right off of, then finally he took a peak at the ground he was heading toward. It was a good thing he had, too, or he would've been skewered on the very sharp rocks below, regardless of how slow he was going. It was almost as if nature had set up a trap for him and his "captive" for daring to leave the battlefield. At that point convinced that someone was out to get him, Conleth had regardless sent a Meteor toward the ground to shatter the rocks below, leaving an unsteady but at least not deadly hole in the earth. All the time, he cursed himself for not learning how to Warp. It would've been extremely helpful if he could just vanish into thin air instead of scramble with spells as if he were in the dark with no candle.

Despite all the panic and lack of truly useful spells, however, Conleth had managed to reach the earth relatively unscathed, if exhausted. He hadn't bothered to try and find a more suitable place to make camp in the sharp-rocked area. He had simply set the White Mage carefully on the ground, and then headed off to find what he could to make a fire. He found pieces of rock, and an old tree that had long died from lack of soil, and with that, he struggled to make a fire that would care for the fuel enough to stay around. Hours later, he was in darkness, cursing the fire for not being strong enough no matter how powerful his Fira spell was. The White Mage was still unconscious, which only made him more miserable. If she was awake, he could at least try to convince her to use Float to get them out of their situation. His luck couldn't be kind, however, and it had to leave him trapped at the bottom of a cliff like a monster in a cage. He couldn't even sleep without risking the White Mage waking up and use Holy on him to his death. After all, he had no doubt in his mind that the lady was _not_ happy with him for taking her away from the battlefield, where she was needed so badly.

The minutes turned into hours that agonizingly ticked by. Conleth stared sleepily at the sky, watching the stars move about in a circle, and the moons make its way across the sky. It started to seem like some time of hypnosis, to see all the sky move around in a circle, and Conleth's eyelids threatened to close. As midnight passed, Conleth found he didn't have the strength or energy to resist catching a little sleep. He closed his eyes and curled up on the cold ground, the stars spinning within his mind...

Certain things, Conleth found, could wake even the most tired being from a peaceful slumber. One of those things that did a particularly good of waking even the dead was a Holy spell, especially such a spell coming from a very annoyed, agitated White Mage.

Conleth's brain didn't register the purple-white brightness and the almost heavenly array of magic until it was too late to bother trying to dodge. The Holy spell sent him backwards and into a rock, causing his back to scream with pain from the abuse it was being dealt. Gritting his teeth, Conleth managed to catch himself as he crumbled to the ground, and he didn't hit it face-first. He looked slowly, his neck protesting at every minute, toward the fire, and found that his captive was quite awake, quite healthy, and quite angry. Her brown eyes were burning with rage, her red-brown hair in disarray from how quickly she must have moved, and her feet firmly implanted on the ground. Her wand was aimed at Conleth, and the Black Mage knew that unless he said something, and quickly, she was going to kill him without a second thought.

"Hold on...!" Conleth began half-heartedly, having no idea what he was going to say.

"Give me a damn good reason to," the White Mage snapped.

"I saved your life," Conleth said weakly, and to his shock, the White Mage laughed. He couldn't see why she would even bother with such a response, let alone find it humorous.

"Really? That's interesting, because you were the one who kidnapped me. How were you saving me?"

"No, after that. This cliff... If it wasn't for me, you would be dead from falling off it."

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have fallen off the cliff in the first place." The White Mage was obviously humored. Conleth was just miserable; his captive _had_ to be incredibly intelligent. It only made his luck even worse, so it naturally had to happen. "Sorry, bad reason. Have any others before I kill you?"

Conleth gritted his teeth nervously, his yellow eyes turning upward as he thought quickly. What could he say? It wasn't like he had anything particularly fascinating in mind. He couldn't say anything about saving her from a bitter world, because he doubted she would even begin to listen to such a thing. Most in the war thought it was perfectly all right to fight over such a stupid feud, and Conleth wasn't going to assume that this Mage was an exception. He had to think of something, though, and quickly. Perhaps something about being a mercenary? She may take it as an excuse to at least let him live a little longer, or not. There was only one way to find out.

"I'm nothing more than a mercenary following orders and I have nothing against your family," Conleth said quickly, taking in a painful breath.

To the Black Mage's shock, the woman paused considerably, fumbling with her wand. Then, further shocking Conleth, she put the wand aside, and sat down next to the fire, which Conleth just realized had held through out the night. Confused, but feeling that he may have said the right thing, Conleth staggered to his feet, and limped painfully over to the fire, where he sat down quietly, trying to ignore his aching body.

"Hold still."

Conleth looked up with surprise, and nearly panicked at seeing the White Mage holding her wand at him again. He became stiff with surprise, then suddenly relaxed when White energy washed over him, giving him energy. The pain throughout his body began to dissipate, then was reduced into a minor ache. The bruises he had suffered from the rocks became painless, then slowly vanished. His ribs became nothing more than a dull pain, and the scrapes on his hands from his rough landing healed and vanished.

_Curaga...?_ Conleth felt like he was in a dream. His captive had just healed him! It made no sense to him. He had kidnapped her, dragged her away from her duties, and now she was healing him in return. Baffled, he looked toward the Mage, only to see she had put her wand aside again and was watching him with obvious curiosity. Conleth very quickly felt like a mouse trapped in a cage; he hated being stared at, and the mage had a stare of someone who was looking straight to your soul. It made Conleth want to either run away, or curl up in a ball. Shame he couldn't do either without looking like an idiot.

"So, you're a mercenary? I never knew mages bothered. Where are you from?" the White Mage asked, only making Conleth even more uncomfortable.

"Um... Daguerreo..." Conleth murmured softly.

"Oh, really? Didn't know they still trained mages there... Hmmm. Interesting." With a nod of her head, the woman turned toward Conleth and held out her hand. "Ida."

Still a little dazed, Conleth shook Ida's hand feebly. "Conleth... Nice to meet--"

"Same here," Ida interrupted smoothly. "You must be paying pretty big money to be still hanging around this stupid war."

_Stupid... War...?_ Conleth could hardly believe what he was hearing. His "captive" called the war "stupid", something he hadn't heard in a very long time, if at all. As his mind finally began to think clearly, Conleth realized that that certainly was why she had suddenly healed him and turned so friendly. They had the same idea about the war that they were fighting. They may be enemies in one sense, but it seemed that they were true allies in a completely other sense. They both thought the war was a stupid idea.

"Well, not much... 2000 Gil per battle..." Conleth muttered quietly. He was about to comment about the comment with the war, but Ida just kept on talking.

"That seems like a hell of a lot to me, considering how many battles are fought," Ida commented. "You must live luxuriously."

"No, not really..." Conleth took a deep breath, and continued speaking before Ida could get another word in. "You think the war is stupid?"

"Huh? Oh, sure! It's damn idiotic. Some stupid feud over who-knows-what that's slaughtering hundreds of lives," Ida spat. "Makes me wish I could just leave the thing..."

Conleth nodded very slowly, but did not inquire further. Apparently if she didn't leave, then there was something that was preventing her from going away from a war she truly despised. Conleth had no idea what it could be, but he also didn't bother dwelling on it. It was none of his business, and he had a funny feeling that Ida wouldn't appreciate him trying to get into her problems, either. He had found that most people didn't like someone who was inquisitive, and Conleth had weeded that trait out of his personality long ago.

Ida also became silent. She had many more questions she wanted to ask, but she had finally come to the realization that she was in a very unpleasant situation. Perhaps she was with a person who was not as bad as she thought, but that didn't stop the fact that she was at the bottom of the cliff, with dawn barely upon them, and many monsters that may have scented them and be hounding them at that point. She didn't fancy the idea of going back to the Chutzpah -- Conleth had gotten her away from them, so why bother going back? -- but she did fancy the idea of getting out of her current situation. Thus, she rose to her feet and began to look around, trying to find a way to get out. She couldn't climb, couldn't teleport, and she didn't like asking others what to do... Then her eyes fell upon her wand, and she grinned at her own foolishness. How could she forget her magic? She had only just used it to hurt, then heal Conleth. She had completely forgotten about her wand while speaking. It was time to bring her powers back into good use, though. Thus, with no other thoughts, Ida called upon the power to Float. She didn't even bother asking if it was all right with Conleth to float; after all, she was sure he would want to get out too.

Conleth barely had time to grab his staff before he and Ida suddenly began to float upward and away from the rocky ground. He looked over at Ida with surprise, only to find her eyes closed, as she channeled her magic into a very powerful Float spell. Taking a deep breath, Conleth looked downward, and was stunned to see how quickly they were moving upward. It made him almost nauseous, and he quickly closed his eyes, trying to ignore his almost swimming mind. White Magic, apparently, gave a _very_ different feel from Black Magic, and he wasn't quite sure he liked the new sensation.

A few nauseating minutes later, Conleth found his feed landing unsteadily on the cold ground at the edge of the cliff. He staggered slightly, only to have him stagger _away_ from the cliff when his instincts discovered that staggering backward meant he'd fall off again. Ida watched with great amusement as the Black Mage fell onto his hands and knees, but at least did not plummet off the edge again. Half of her mind wished he would've, as it would've made her day even more entertaining to see a dizzy mage panic while plummeting to his death. Perhaps she was just morbid from the past days' events. Or maybe she had always been morbid to begin with. It was probably the latter.

"Are you done yet?" Ida finally spat after Conleth had stayed on the ground for five minutes. He was a mage, for goodness sake; surely he could take a simple Float spell!

"If you could help me _up_, I would be just fine." Conleth's voice seethed with fury at the other's insolence. He would've gotten up if his footing wasn't so unsure, and if he wasn't so terrified that moving even an inch would send him to his doom. Apparently Ida didn't have such worries; he wondered if she had any worries at all. She certainly didn't have any manners. Still, despite her rudeness, she did have enough kindness to gently help him to his feet, and even away from the ledge. If she hadn't then so roughly let go of him that he nearly fell over again, Conleth would've had a flicker of hope in her.

"There. That better?" Ida smirked at Conleth's glare. "Good, because I don't want to babysit you."

"Babysit--?"

"Well, you can't possibly think I'm going to go _back_ to that army, do you? Ha! You gave me exactly the change I needed to get out of there. So I'm going to go head off and have some nice new life that doesn't involve the bloody war. I assume that you're going to go back to the war, since that's where your money is--"

"Well, then you're absolutely wrong," Conleth managed to get out. He was very quickly realizing that Ida was one of those women who began talking and then couldn't shut up; not his favorite type. "Just because I'm a mercenary doesn't mean I'm after the money--"

"Oh really? Then why are you fighting in the war, hmmm? A war that pays 2000 Gil per battle?" Ida smirked at Conleth's glare. "Don't try to fake it, Mage. You're in it purely for the cash."

No point arguing that. The war _did_ give him good money, though now all of it was somewhere in Lindblum, probably being taken by a bunch of soldiers who had declared him dead already. Honestly, he had wanted to desert with all his Gil an eternity ago, but the General had basically threatened him to stay, or he'd be killed. It had been subtle threats, but it had been enough for Conleth to get the idea. Of course, now he was out in the middle of no where with nothing, but it didn't seem like too much of a bad idea to start over. He could probably find some rich family that needed a bodyguard, and make enough money that way to get his own place to stay. Then he could always get training for a new job...

The war still nagged him in the back of his mind, though. People would still die over a useless cause. The loss of two soldiers wasn't going to stop a thing, and now with a healer gone, the casualties would only be more severe. The loss of a mage made things drastic as well; while Mages killed many outright, they also protected many; now that protection was gone. No doubt more people would die on both sides; one had lost a healer, the other had lost a protector. It was all because Conleth had kidnapped Ida, too. It made Conleth's guilty conscience inflate severely. He couldn't just leave all those people to fight and die, over and over again, now that he was free. His mind rejected the notion. He had to be able to do something to stop it all...

"Thank you for listening, Mage."

"Hold on!" Conleth grabbed Ida's shoulder and spun her around, ignoring the death glare she gave him because of it. Let her be mad because he had ignored her; it didn't matter at that moment, or ever. "Are you just going to walk away from all those people dying down there?"

Ida titled her head slightly the side, staring. This Black Mage was certainly stupid. She had also felt a twinge of guilt for leaving everyone behind. She didn't know of any way to stop it. One person, especially such a small, non-influential person like herself, could not stop such a large family feud. It was useless to try. Perhaps when she was stronger and had more support she could try, but at that moment, she could only worry about starting a new life. "Walking away" seemed to be the only choice. Conleth seemed to believe they could do something, which at that moment, seemed very unlikely to Ida. The situation was like trying to stop a river from flowing, or to build a new airship; you could do it, but you needed many people, and plenty of influence. Neither of them had it.

"Well, certainly if I had any idea how to, I would end the stupidity of it all, but it's not like I can do anything," Ida replied smoothly.

"Not like--? Since when? You have no idea if that's true or not!"

"Oh, please. You can't possibly think two people can end the war?"

"Last time I checked, three people started it." Conleth desperately hoped his history books had been right. He swore they said that Treno had initiated the war, and that the skirmishes were just remains of the war, but it could've been inaccurate.

"Good point." Ah, so it hadn't been. Ida's sigh brought Conleth from his temporary triumph, and he watched as she shook her head with completely disbelief. "All right, Mage, it's obvious you want to try _something_, so tell me, where should we go to try it?"

That was not the reply that Conleth had expected. He had expected grumbling, quarreling, and maybe even a bit of stomping off into the distance, but certainly not quick resignation, then demands. He really had no idea what they would be doing. He had just thought that such a plan would be laid right in front of them, and all they had to do was follow it. It took Ida's question to make him realize that such a think would never happen, and the only thing they could do was randomly guess on where to go, and what to do once they were there. His first thought was that they should go to Alexandria or Lindblum, but his mind quickly reminded him on how incredibly idiotic that would be. It wouldn't take long for them to be spotted wandering around and trying to end the war, and the charge of treason would fall like an axe. Alexandria and Lindblum definitely were not options.

Ida's laughter brought Conleth out of his thoughts, and he immediately glared at the White Mage. She was keeling over from laughter, staring up at Conleth with glittering, highly amused eyes. Immediately Conleth knew what was so hilarious: his stupidity. There he was, planning to save a bunch of lives and to stop a war, and he didn't even know how to begin. Who said he could even stop the war? He was probably aiming for something he couldn't even reach, especially if he couldn't even begin. Yes, he could definitely understand Ida's laughter, and he almost wanted to laugh at himself. He was being a complete and utter fool.

"Well, my stupid Mage, I guess I'd better enlighten you. Ever hear of Burmecia?"

"Yes." Who hadn't heard of Burmecia? Once upon a time Lindblum had beaten it in technology, but then when it got caught up in war, Burmecia had taken the reins. Burmecians weren't afraid of technology and any after-effects it had, and they were the only city on the continent that made good use of gunpowder. They were also secretly watched to make sure they didn't do anything stupid, though the Burmecians kept peacefully to themselves, and didn't bother anyone, except maybe the jealous. "What about it?"

"I can't believe you asked that. Hello! City of Technology? Gunpowder? Some of the best damn politicians in the world? Are you really that thick?" Ida's eyes flashed angrily as she stared down at Conleth, obviously not able to believe he couldn't realize what she was aiming for. "You really _are_ that thick. Burmecia may have someone who knows what to do about the war! It was become of them that it was stopped in the first place, remember? Maybe we can find someone who wouldn't mind stopping it again."

"You did not just say 'we'." Conleth's voice was thick with horror and disappointment. It was bad enough to deal with Ida for five seconds; now she apparently was going with him? He swore she had said that she wouldn't be babysitting him...

"Dammit, you can't think I'm going to go let yourself get arrested or something, do you? You obviously have no idea what you're doing. For a mercenary, you sure are stupid. So, I'm going to come along to make sure you don't mess up. I want to stop this thing too, you know." Ida's tone was resolute, but Conleth decided to meekly try to change her mind.

"You said you wouldn't be--"

"I know what I freaking said, Mage, and forget it! I changed my mind. We're going to Burmecia, and that's it. Okay?"

_No, but I don't have a choice,_ Conleth thought, ignoring a sudden want to smash Ida's face in. It would feel good for about two seconds, before Ida Holied him without mercy. It wasn't worth it, though keeping the mental images of beating up Ida in his head definitely would make the journey pleasant.

"Stop smirking like a moron, Mage, and let's get going."

"I'm not 'Mage'. I'm Conleth!" Conleth shouted, suddenly sick of the lack of disrespect. It was most likely the fact that Ida's loud mouth had shattered any nice mental images he had had. Still, he _did_ have a name, and he had told her it; the most she could do was use it. Perhaps it was too much to ask for from Ida.

"Good for you, Mage. I'm gone." And with that, the White Mage turned around and began to calmly climb higher up the mountain, as if she had done such a thing every day of her life. Her sarcastic, "You think I really _care?"_ tone left Conleth's mood absolutely sour, but something regardless made him slowly and carefully begin to follow the other higher up the mountain. A lack of sanity could be the only thing that could possibly account for it.

You know what? A potty-mouthed White Mage is awesome. Completely and utterly unlikely, but wicked regardless. This chapter was pretty long compared to the others, which is nice, but there still wasn't a lot of description. The next chapter will have some more, I swear. Until then, enjoy this chapter!

Oh, and one more thing... If you have _any_ original ideas for FFIX short stories, e-mail them to me. I want to write a short story, but nothing awe-inspiring is coming to my poor brain. Thank you!

This story is copyright to Breeze. Final Fantasy IX is copyright to Square-Whatcha-M'-Call-It. And I'm copyright to... Wait a minute.


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